Hunted (12 page)

She’d wanted Jared so she’d taken him.

She wanted Damon to please her, so she hadn’t let herself orgasm.

She wanted Damon to recapture her and punish her, so she’d pleased herself. She couldn’t wait to see what he’d do about that combination.

Jared’s smile was friendly. It had been a sweet encounter, again the kind of sex she would have thought reasonable in the past. Now, sweet sex paled against the fiery encounters she’s had with Damon—and she wanted more of what he had to offer.

“Well, it should be lady’s pleasure. You just surprised me, and it was so hot. I came so fast, without taking care of you.”

“I took care of myself,” Shara replied.

“But it’s never as good,” Jared said with a smile. “Come on, let’s try again.”

“You’ll have to catch me first,” Shara teased, slipping to her feet.

“Right, that’s the game this weekend, isn’t it?” Jared tugged on his shorts and shirt. “We could take a dip in the ocean, do it in the water, before I chase you,” he suggested, clearly finding appeal in that. His eyes glinted. “We could even wash off those spots.”

Not a chance. Shara danced away from him. “You have to hunt to savor the prize,” she said and took a few more steps away. Jared chuckled and leaped after her, snatching for her and just missing her shoulder.

Shara turned to run, but there was a sudden whistling sound.

“Ouch!” Jared said and twisted to look at his own back. She glanced back, only to see there was a feathered dart embedded in the back of his shoulder, like he’d been targeted by jungle cannibals.

But they were supposed to be alone on the island.

“Fuck!” Jared said. “What the hell is this?” He twisted and reached over his shoulder, but the dart was in a spot he couldn’t reach.

Shara couldn’t leave him. “What’s that?” she demanded, even as she went back to his side. She’d thought he might have grabbed her, but he frowned at the dart. Shara pulled it out and he grimaced, then she dabbed at the little trickle of blood that came from the hole. She looked toward the jungle, but there was no sign of anyone in the dense growth.

“Whoa,” Jared said, stumbling a little on his feet. “There’s some kind of shit on it. I’m feeling dizzy.”

Shara was alarmed. She helped him to sit down as he wavered on his feet, thinking all the while about the drug Damon had used the night before. She wouldn’t have thought he would take out the competition like this, but she reminded herself she didn’t really know him.

Jared caught her shoulders in his hands, his eyes wide. “It must have been meant for you,” he managed to say. “Run, Shara. Run!”

“For me?”

“Like last night. The bastard. It’s not fair.”

Shara shook her head, unable to believe Damon would do this.

“Run!” Jared insisted. “It’s your only chance.”

“But you…”

“I’ll be fine.” He gave her a little push. “Just run!”

“But what if it’s drugged?”

“I’m bigger than you,” he said with a crooked grin. “Just run already.”

Shara studied the shadows of the jungle but couldn’t see any movement. Was the attacker still there? Jared shook his head slowly as if some drug
had
been injected into him. Was this how Damon intended to capture her again? Had he missed? It was odd but she couldn’t imagine him using a dart, even if he did mean to sedate her. It would leave a mark, a hole in the artwork he’d created of her skin.

Still, Jared was falling asleep. She scanned the jungle again.

It seemed ominously quiet.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“A little mellow, that’s it. I don’t think it’s going to take me down much further than this.”

“You don’t know.”

Jared gave Shara a poke with his finger. “Are you still hanging around? Go!”

Shara decided to do what he told her to do. The dart had to have come from further down the beach from the left. She scrambled to her feet, took one last look at Jared, then ran in the opposite direction.

* * *

Neil stepped out of the jungle and considered Jared. The other man sprawled on the rock and seemed to have his eyes closed.

One down.

Neil walked closer with care, uncertain how sleepy the other man really was. He hadn’t used that much sedative on the dart, and Shara had pulled it out pretty quickly. He eased closer, then realized Jared was watching him. He looked serene, not out cold, but that could have been a trick.

“Hey man, is this your work?” Jared asked, his words slurred. Was he really going under, or just putting it on?

“Does it matter?”

“I like to know what’s going on, that’s all.” He had trouble with the last of the sentence and his eyelids drooped.

“I’m eliminating the competition,” Neil said crisply. “You’re the first one down.”

“Ah,” Jared looked disappointed. “I thought it was too much to hope for.”

Neil had been in the act of picking up the rope that had bound Shara’s hands, but he froze to stare at Jared. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jared grinned crookedly. “That I’m all yours.”

“I don’t want you,” Neil said coldly.

“Too bad. Nice ass.”

Neil took a step back. “I said I’m not gay.”

“I’ve got a buddy who says we’re all just one good blow job away from changing teams.” He stretched out a hand. “Help me get out of the sun, man. It’s the least you could do.”

“I’m not touching you,” Neil said, stepping away as there was a very female shriek of surprise. He smiled and glanced toward the jungle, knowing Shara had stumbled into one of his hidden traps, just the way he’d anticipated. He could see the commotion in the canopy of leaves where the trap had been obviously set off.

“What have you done to Shara?” Jared asked, dismay making him straighten a little, even against the sedative’s effect.

“Exactly what she wants us to do to her.” Neil smiled grimly at the other man. “It’s your lucky day. I’ll take you out of the sun, after all, just so you’ll have your proof that I’m not gay.” He tied Jared’s ankles together with the length of rope he carried, the man unable to fight him off.

“Hey!” Jared complained groggily, but there wasn’t much he could do to save himself.

Neil rolled Jared over, not being gentle at all, and with some effort, bound his wrists behind his back with the same rope. “I’d hood you, but I want you to see what happens next,” he said, then dragged Jared off the beach and toward the captive Shara.

Victory was so close he could taste it.

* * *

Steele was distracted.

Athena didn’t like it one bit.

She watched him surreptitiously as they worked during the day, unable to evade her sense he had something else—or worse, someone else—on his mind. He replied to her queries promptly and brought her the files she request, appearing to be attentive, but Athena wasn’t fooled.

She also wasn’t nearly ready to share her promising new assistant with anyone.

At lunch, she pretended to have an appointment and left the office, but only went around the building to enter again beside the kitchens. There was a door there for deliveries. Although it—like all doors and windows at The Phoenix—was monitored, she took a chance Steele wouldn’t check.

Once inside, she went into a small room, where much of the security system was routed and closed the door behind herself. She accessed the panel hidden in one wall with her computerized key, and scanned the display. This was the core of the entire security system, where the entire building could be monitored. Some of the cameras appeared to be turned off, even though they streamed video as if they were on. Athena soon discovered they were playing a recorded video. It was located on the main computer, but the last access code was Steele’s.

She demanded a list of the cameras that were offline, and pursed her lips at the results. One in Amy’s room and another in one of the dungeons. She tapped up a display of the corridor outside that dungeon, not truly surprised to see Steele striding down the corridor. He flicked a quick glance at the camera, as if hoping not to be seen, then tugged on his gloves and let himself into the dungeon in question.

Athena turned on the audio from that dungeon.

“Waiting to tell me what you know?” Steele asked, his voice dark.

Someone, undoubtedly Amy, made a moan as if compliant.

Athena leaned against the wall, listening as she examined her fingernails.

“Tell me about the coffin,” Steele said. There was a rustle and something fell to the floor.

“Make me!” Amy said, her voice filled with a defiance that made Athena smile. She heard Steele’s footsteps, and admired how he took his time. Part of the power of a scene was letting tension build.

“I will,” he vowed.

Athena heard Amy gasp again. “I told you, no blindfolds!”

“It’s not up to you, Amy,” Steele said. “Until you accept that I’m in charge, we’re not going to make any progress at all.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” she said, but Athena could hear that she was just trying to drive him on. She smiled at the crack of a whip in the air of the dungeon, Amy’s quick intake of breath as she realized what he meant to do, then her cry as the whip was snapped across her ass.

“Three strikes,” Steele promised. “And not a sound from that mouth until I ask for it, or there will be three more.”

Athena could practically feel Amy’s frustration, but the younger woman remained silent. It must have cost her dearly, for Amy wasn’t one to either hold her tongue or obey. The whip cracked three times, snapping with a crisp sound that made Athena wet.

“The coffin,” Steele reminded Amy.

“It goes to Windswept as part of a merry widow fantasy,” Amy admitted, her breath coming in short pants. “The customer wanted to have sex with a corpse, but not really. She wanted orgasm to bring him back to life, and to do it in the coffin, after the wake.”

“Seriously?” Steele asked.

“Seriously,” Amy agreed. “The customer in the coffin has a vampire fantasy.”

This seemed to shock Steele. “Seriously,” he said again.

Amy chuckled under her breath, although Athena didn’t see the humor. “It takes all kinds to make a world.”

Steele laughed, as if she had surprised him, and Athena was deeply disappointed in him.

“That’s it?” he asked and Amy sighed.

“Why don’t I pretend there’s more, so you don’t have to stop?” she asked, her voice filled with humor.

And they laughed together, laughed as if there was nothing more funny in all the world than the fantasies of the clients of The Phoenix.

Those would be the clients who funded the club, who took out mortgages to have their fantasies fulfilled, who trusted Athena and Rex to not only take them seriously but to make their dreams come true.

And these two, these two who benefited from all those fees paid by all those clients, dared to laugh.

Athena couldn’t believe it. Furious, she over-rode the lock for the dungeon door, knowing the clang of the bolt sinking home would echo in the room.

“What was that?” Amy asked.

“I don’t know,” Steele said, then his footsteps sounded. He audibly tried the door, his voice rising in a most satisfactory manner. “It’s locked!”

“Don’t you have the key?” Amy’s voice rose.

“It doesn’t work.” Steele swore with very satisfying frustration.

“It’s Athena!” Amy whispered.

Athena turned off the audio before they could beg for mercy, leaving them to worry about her plans. The dungeon, as she recalled, wasn’t booked for a week or so, which gave her plenty of time to ensure Amy learned her place, and Steele remembered that he was her assistant. She could envision exactly how she would discipline them, teaching them that she was in charge, making them beg for clemency…

But then, that would be exactly what they wanted, wouldn’t it?

And that particular scene would be funded by the fees of the clients, whose fantasies they dared to find amusing. Athena wasn’t much for principles and ideals, but there was one here, and it was important to her.

Still simmering with anger, she left the room, and tried to think like Rex. She wished she had his understanding of people’s secrets and motivations, because she wanted to strike at the hearts of these two.

She had entered the front door of the townhouse again and locked it behind herself when she realized there was only one way to do that.

* * *

Shara ran into the canopy of the jungle to escape the men, her heart pounding in anticipation of being caught again. Her eyes took a precious moment to adjust to the comparative darkness there, after the sunlight on the white beach. That was long enough. She hadn’t seen anything wrong with the leaves underfoot, not until she’d taken that step and seen sudden motion.

She screamed as the jungle floor seemed to gather up around her. She heard a rope slither and saw that she’d sprung a trap. But it was too late to escape. She found herself hauled skyward, trapped in the net of fine green mesh that had been covered with leaves and vines. The greenery was piled into the net with her. She squirmed and thrashed, but the net was gathered up so she was trapped inside it. It stopped moving when the bottom of it was suspended five or six feet above the ground